Albus Potter: Son of the Famous Harry Potter
by AttemptedWriter
Summary: Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts for over thirty year, is about to have an unexpected visitor. Tells the history of a now eighteen year old Albus Potter, who will soon be famous for more than his lineage.
1. Chapter 1: A Famous Vistor

"Albus Potter: The Last Son of the Famous Harry Potter"

CHAPTER 1- The Famous Visitor

The rain pouring on the small house had grown heavier. It no longer filled the home with the gentle, trance-like sound of a summer shower, but instead, a roaring noise, like a thousand tiny stones were being hurled at the roof. The storm outside was becoming fierce, it's thunder shook the house, skewing the moving pictures on the wall, and lightning flashed so brilliantly the occupants of the house would have trouble seeing minutes after.

The storm was enough to unnerve even Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts for over thirty years. She had aged well, but the years were beginning to show. Her hair was nearly solid white, with a few strands of grey. It was pulled back into a tight bun, and out of her wrinkling face. She was getting old, but despite her age, she did not appear even slightly frail, a strange power seemed to come from her, and she moved with a grace unnatural for a woman of her advanced years.

If the storm was enough to make McGonagall nervous, it was more than enough to send Lavender Brown, owner of the home, into a quiet panic. Her eyes darted wildly around the room. A small circular living room in the exact center of the first floor, three rooms branched from it, the kitchen, the dining room, and a small room filled with extra crystal balls, chipped tea glasses and other old trinkets used for Divination. The living room itself had three oversized sofas and an excess of throw pillows, in the center of the room was a spiral staircase leading to the upstairs, a small table circled the stairs on all sides except the entrance.

Lavender let out a small but distinct shriek, when the thunder roared again, shaking the house so violently a small cup holding McGonagall's tea slipped of the table a shatter on the floor.

"It'll be alright Ms. Brown." Minerva said, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible.

Lavender simply nodded. Another flash, and the accompanying roar, which knocked a picture of the wall, the occupant screaming as it's portrait crashed to the floor.

"Sorry, again you got caught out in this Headmistress," She apologized, "I know you'd much rather wait out the storm at Hogwarts."

"While that is most certainly true Miss Brown, there's no need to apologize, unless of course you predicted the storm, which would oddly be reason to accept and reject your request to be the new Divination instructor."

Lavender smiled, "No, I don't think anyone could have foreseen this."

It was a true enough statement. The storm had caught everyone off guard. It sprang up suddenly three days earlier, and it quickly spread to cover most of Europe. No one had any way to explain how it started, even those at the Ministry of Magic. The Muggles were in a state of poorly controlled panic.

The size and ferocity of the storm were not the only puzzling things. For one, it had rendered the witches and wizard throughout Europe incapable of Apparating, and no one dared ride a broom out in the storm. Which is why Minerva McGonagall was spending her third night in the home of Lavender Brown.

The strangest thing about the storm for some, however, was it's place of origin: The childhood home of Tom Riddle, known throughout the Wizarding world as the most terrible dark wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort.

Lord Voldemort had spread fear in their world in a way no one had ever done before. He had been beaten once before in curious event, the details of which were still unclear to most. But he managed to return fourteen years after more terrible than ever. He was soon after killed due to the efforts of Harry Potter, considered by many to be the most famous wizard of all time. Lord Voldemort had already returned once when they had thought him dead, many were growing increasingly paranoid for the possibility of this happening a second time. Lavender Brown was among them. "Do you think it's possible that it...really is him?" Thirty years later, people were still terrified to speak Voldemort's name.

"Possible, but unlikely." McGonagall said with confidence.

Lavender continued, "But, over his home, it can't just be coincidence."

"There are many reasons the storm may have originated over the Riddle's home, and very few of them include the return of a man we know for a fact to be dead this time."

Lavender was still not convinced, " I heard that the dark mark was seen minutes before the storm started."

"If there is any truth to that rumor it still means very little." McGonagall insisted, " The dark mark can still be conjured whether Voldemort is alive or dead."

Lavender flinched at the name, "Please, Headmistress."

McGonagall frowned, " For heaven sake Ms. Brown, you don't expect me to still avoid his name! This is quite ridiculous! Grown people murmuring about the dead returning, you should have learned better in school, after all I was one of the ones teaching!"

Lavender started to protest, but was cut short there was a loud pounding on the door, and whoever was doing it was clearly not stopping until the door was opened. Lavender sat frozen in terror. McGonagall stood and moved to the door, as soon as she turned the doorknob the wind caught the door slamming it into the wall, misty wind blew into the hall soaking Minerva almost immediately. Framed in the doorway, was a tall man around forty years old, holding a boy of nineteen in his arms. He stepped into the light and McGonagall recognized them immediately. She ushered them quickly inside.

Lavender gasped as they entered the living room. The boy in the man's arms was completely pale, blood drenching his robes. The man holding him, was Harry Potter.

"Lavender!" McGonagall snapped, " We need to get him into a bed, can we use the guest room?" Lavender nodded. "Alright, Potter, take him upstairs." McGonagall said gently. Harry nodded, and moved immediately toward the stairs, McGonagall followed close behind.

Lavender was left alone. She once again eyed the room nervously. She waited jumping at every shadow, or, noise, and the storm provided plenty. After a few minutes, she could take no more, she stood and hurried up the stairs. following the drops of blood to the guest bedroom door. She could hear hushed, but clearly angry voices arguing.

"You really should lay down, Potter, your side looks almost as bad as his."

"I'm fine." He held his side grimacing with pain, " I need you to listen, we're in serious danger."

But that was all he said, McGonagall silenced him with a wave and pointed through the doorway at Lavender.

"They be fine Ms Brown, but I'm afraid we need privacy. "Lavender nodded and turned to leave, but Harry Potter had collapsed onto the floor. "Help me with him!" McGonagall barked, all the anxiety returning to her voice. Together they lifted Harry, and placed him on the bed next to the boy. McGonagall pulled out her wand and bandaged his wounds with a wave. A million questions swarmed through Lavender's head, she started with the most obvious and prominent one.

"Who is that boy, Minerva?" She asked.

"Surely, you should know at least by reputation, it's Harry Potter's youngest son, Albus Severus Potter

Lavender mouthed the words again, she had never met Harry's children before, in fact she had not seen in him in over twenty-five years. She turned to ask McGonagall another question but stopped, McGonagall had begun pacing look incredibly focused and frustrated.

Lavender surveyed the two men, unconscious, seriously injured by an unknown, but clearly powerful curse. The older, Harry Potter, she remembered from her years at Hogwarts, but he was not that boy anymore. He was grown now, forty-five, the same age as Lavender. His brown hair was graying, his boyish face, chiseled and scared. His nose looked as is it had been broken more than once, and his face was covered with scars, but one scar stood out among the rest, Lavender remembered it well. A small scar shaped like a lightning bolt could be seen on his forehead, in between to new and much less extraordinary scars. It was one of the many things he was famous for.

He had gotten the scar at the age of one, Lord Voldemort had given it to him. He had preformed the Killing Curse, one of the three darkest and most illegal curses in the wizarding world, but Harry inexplicably had survived it, when no other wizard had, including his parents. The curse rebounded on Lord Voldemort, and sent him away the first time, a shred of his former self, but it had left a scar on Harry Potter; a scar that would mark him forever as "The Boy Who Lived". It was one of two things Lavender noticed, that had not changed from the boy she knew.

The second was his remarkable emerald eyes, given to him by his Mother. It was the one physical aspect of his mother he carried with him, the rest of him looked very much like James Potter, his father.

The younger figure she had never seen before, but oddly she felt she new him more. He was exactly as his father had been at that age. In fact, if it had not been for that absence of the scar and the subtlest red tint to his hair, she would have believed he was seventeen year old Harry Potter.

She eyed their injuries, both had been hit in the side with the curse, their faces pale and lifeless. Their chests rose and fell seldom and slowly, as if it pained them.

McGonagall continued to pace around the room, her hair let down out of it's bun and draped across one shoulder. "What are we gonna do, Headmistress?" Lavender asked, glancing at the two men once more.

"I am still thinking Ms. Brown." McGonagall said, frustration veiled thinly in her voice.

"We should try to contact the Ministry."

"And how do you suggest we do that, any owl we send would surely be killed in this dreadful storm, and we've already tried the floo network, it hasn't worked for the last two days. Besides even if they could be reached, what would they do, they can send no one.' McGonagall stopped suddenly, noticing Lavender's terrified expression, "I'm sorry Ms. Brown, but I need a minute to sort all this out."

Lavender nodded, but she was still grew more worried with each passing second. McGonagall had stopped pacing and now stood beside the bed, looking down at the unconscious Potters. "What did he tell you, Headmistriss?"

McGonagall frowned, "Not much, Ms. Brown." She stopped for a moment, and finally seemed to decide that she couldn't figure it out on her own, she answered. " Most of it was incoherent, he'd clearly lost a lot of blood." McGonagall paused, expecting Lavender to cut her off with a list of questions, but instead she sat, listening intently. McGonagall continued, "I asked him what exactly was happening and he said he didn't know the whole story, but that Albus did. He did tell me that he knew who had started the storm and that there was still time to stop them."

"Did he say who?" Lavender asked once it was clear McGonagall had no more to say.

McGonagall gave a look that made her next sentence unnecessary, "No, I'm afraid he never made it that far."

"Will they-?"

"That depends, on if we can determine what curse they been hit with and if I have the necessary knowledge to heal it." McGonagall sighed, "And if you have any ideas on how to determine that I am more than open to hear it."

"Actually, I do have one idea." Lavender said nervously, "Have you ever heard of the Memoria Recordatio?"

"Vaguely, Ms. Brown, I've been a teacher for over 50 years, please refresh my aging memory."

"Well, it's all based of the idea that as person's life will flash before there eyes when they die. Memoria Recordatio, allows a person to see the memories as there being recalled. If we used the spell, we could see exactly what happed to them tonight, as well as all the major events leading up to it." Lavender hesitated before adding, "It's among the most untested magic ever, Professor Trewlaney was the one who told me about it originally. I'd understand if you were hesitant to try it."

"Not at all Ms. Brown, it sounds like the best option we have," said McGonagall smiling.

Lavender couldn't help but smile too, "It's not going to be easy, there are several draw backs to the process. For one thing its really difficult to pull of the spell and requires complete concentration, which is difficult normally, on a night like tonight it will be next to impossible," she saw McGonagall frown again, and quickly added, " But if the two of us work together we should be able to pull it off."

"Yes, I believe we can, but what are some of the other…"draw backs"?

"The process is almost completely controlled by the subject's subconscious mind, it takes an extraordinary amount of work to redirect the process as a viewer and a knowledge of Oclemency that I do not possess."

"But surely, Potter's subconscious will be drawn to these events anyway, he knows the importance of them." McGonagall said dismissively.

Lavender hesitated, " Yes and No. It a lot of the cases done before, the subjects used this opportunity to say all the things they couldn't say in life, much like any person who knew they were going to die would do. The process can take quiet a while, and visit many memories that we would find useless."

McGonagall weighed this for a moment, but finally said, "We'll it's true we don't have all the time in the world, but as I said before, we don't have any better options."

Lavender stood up and walked over to the bed, " Which one should we cast in on?"

"Well, Potter said the boy knew the whole story, I'd say him." They both pointed their wand at Albus Severus Potter, and said the incantation, "Memoria Recordatio". Suddenly McGonagall felt the whole room fall away, she was moving very fast backwards. Places, names, and faces flew past so fast she couldn't concentrate on any single one, she felt as if she recognized some, but she couldn't see any of them long enough to be sure.

Then the world seemed to slow, she saw Hogwarts, students, and herself at the Start of Term Feast. She saw the Hogwarts express and eventually she came to stop, at Platform 9 and ¾, a Harry Potter nine years younger standing over her, a hand on her shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2: A Famous School

"Albus Potter: The Last Son of the Famous Harry Potter"

Chapter 2- A Famous School

It was one of the strangest experiences McGonagall had ever had. She felt Harry Potter's arm on her shoulder, heard his voice, but it all felt so distance. Every sensation felt strangely numb, yet she could feel it all as intensely as if she had really been there.

She could hear is thoughts, or rather, she was thinking his thoughts, yet her own were still in there. The combination was incredibly confusing. It took a while for her to sort the two streams thought out. She found the platform very familiar, and the train even more familiar, Albus did not. He had only visited the platform once before to drop off his brother, James. He looked around in awe, excitement filling every inch of him, but there was something else, something that crept up threatening to suppress his joyous anticipation, fear.

His father gave him another pat on the shoulder, and stood up to full height. The train whistle blew and Albus quickly moved into the compartment with Rose. Ginny closed the door behind him; Albus continued to look at his father, thinking over what he had just said. It had encouraged him deeply, but the fear he felt was lurking ever deeper. McGonagall searched the boy's brain, attempting to remember what was worrying him so. This query was answered when Albus spotted his older brother James. The image of his brother sparked a powerful memory; McGonagall witnessed it as if it were her own. James standing there with a smug, devious smile, telling Albus how scared he was that his little brother would end up in Slytherin, "Of course I wouldn't be able to help you out with anything, I'd be helping the enemy, I'm might not even speak to you the whole year, just to be on the safe side." Albus knew that he was kidding, but the idea of him being placed in Slytherin stuck with him. In fact the idea of being trapped in any house other than Gryffindor, alone, separated from his family and friends scared him more than he'd admit to anyone except his father. Perhaps it was his father's disappointment he feared the most. For Albus knew, even though his father would never say it, that he wanted his son to follow in his footsteps, and a major part of that was proving that he, Albus, was a brave Gryffindor."

His thoughts were so intense he had not heard his Uncle Ron's last sentence; in fact he was vaguely aware his Uncle had said anything at all, but, as the rest of his siblings and cousins were laughing, he forced a weak one to. The train lurched and began to move forward, Albus looked quickly to his father, shooting him one last terrified expression, but his father looked back, with the same comforting look, He smiled widely at his son. Albus nodded, pit in his stomach settling slightly. He waved at his parents, who stood waving back. He smiled and started to turn to go find a seat, but before he did, he thought he caught a glimpse of something. His father looked worried. Albus tried to push the thought a way. "He's prolly just sad because he'll miss me," He told himself, but the thought settled at the back of his mind with the rest of his fears, and added to their weight. However, this place was rarely visited by his mind for the rest of the trip, the excitement returning with the hustle of the journey.

He and his cousin, Rose Weasley settled into a compartment by themselves, but they preferred it this way, they'd been the best of friends since they could remember, and there was no one who Albus would rather spend this time with. Anyone else would feel excessive, and he was quite glad James was not there to torment him. The two talked excitedly about Hogwarts and what they wanted to do this year at school, especially wanting to visit the areas most frequently occurring in their parent's stories. Their families had all spent so much time together Albus had seen them as members of his immediate family, Rose as much as a sister to him as Lily, maybe even more.

Rose, was the daughter of Ron and Hermione Weasley, Albus' father's best friends from school (Ron was also older brother to Ginny, Albus' mother). She had her fathers pale freckled skin and brilliant red hair, which was bushy and tangled like her mother's. This was not the only thing she inherited from her mother; she had already started to show signs of being an extremely intelligent, diligent, if a bit bossy, student. This became even more evident as she explained all the preemptive reading she had been doing in preparation for her first year,

"I just do hope I'm not behind, I must have read Hogwarts, A History: Revised Edition, like twenty times." She said, with a hint of pride that suggested she wasn't worried about being behind at all, and was instead, just bragging.

Albus smiled, a bit deviously, "Of course you did, your mother wrote it!" They both laughed, and from there the conversation continued, as they discussed the Great Hall and how they imagined it, and the room of requirement, wondering if they would be able to find it (the book didn't specify to keep kids from breaking the rules), and what uses they would have for it. "Maybe the room will do your homework for you, you know, if you really need it to." Albus said hopefully.

"Don't be ridiculous," Rose said in her best matter-of-fact tone, "What you need is to do the homework yourself, otherwise you won't learn anything."

Albus simply smiled again, "It's our first year and you're already preparing for your OWL exams aren't you?"

"Aren't you?" She said, but this was mostly a joke, she smiled and continued, "Anyway, I'm hoping the room will give us a place to practice our defense spells, I'm thinking we'll need them, if Scorpius is even half as bad as his father."

"My father told me not judge him based on his father, so did your mother."

"Well I can already tell he's positively vile, did you see the look he was giving your dad?" But he did not get the chance to answer. As if on cue, Scorpius Malfoy walked into the compartment, wearing an arrogant and sly smile McGonagall was already well familiar with. Albus found it mostly new, and very disconcerting.

"Hello, Potter, Weasley, I don't think we've ever actually met, I'm Scorpius Malfoy. Of course I've heard all about you, and your family." He said with a smile McGonagall instantly recognized as forced, but this was perhaps because she knew something Albus, who was growing ever more uncomfortable, didn't.

"Please to meet you," Albus offered, but his voice was drowned out by Rose.

"What do you want Malfoy?" She said irritably, channeling her father's impulsiveness.

Malfoy smiled the more deviously, " My father told me to introduce myself," He let the sentence hang before continuing, " He said it was only polite, after all out fathers were all-," He paused again, carefully choosing his phrasing, " old friends."

"Our fathers were anything but friends." This time it was Albus, "My father would never associate himself with a Death Eater."

There was a flash of anger in his eyes, but the smile quickly returned, "Former Death Eater you mean, Potter, unless you're making a very serious accusation about my father." This last part was almost a warning.

"I don't know what you mean, Scorpius," Albus grinned.

"Of course not." Malfoy's grin was gone, but his arrogant drawling voice remained, "Like I said, we're being polite."

"He looks exactly how I remember his father being, only a bit more tactful" Lavender said, surprising McGonagall so much she almost lost the memory and for an instant saw the room she was actually standing in, before being rushed back into the Hogwarts Express and the mind of young Albus Potter.

"I didn't know we could communicate like this Ms. Brown." McGonagall said regaining her focus.

"Our minds our linked with his and therefore with each other, I've been trying to redirect us to a more vital memory but Albus seems to want us to seen this." Lavender hid her frustration poorly, clearly feeling the pressures of the events in the real world weighing on her.

"Can we communicate with him?" McGonagall asked, "Explain to him that our time is short."

"No, he is still unconscious, but his subconscious is clearly aware of us. He wants us to see what he's showing us." with an edge of defeat she added, "All we can do is wait."

"Yes," McGonagall agreed, but was unwilling to leave it at that, "But we can still take precautions. We should make periodic trips back to the present to keep an eye on the time and the state of things."

"We'll have to do it in shifts or we could lose the connection completely." Lavender's resolve seemed to be restoring.

"Well that seems sensible."

"Besides," Continued Lavender, sounding hopeful once again, "Time should move considerably slower outside of his mind, or more accurately, it moves much faster inside his mind."

"Then I think we have plenty of time to see everything he wants us to." McGonagall's confidence was infectious, and Lavender was about to voice agreement when both women were distracted.

Scorpius had fired a curse at Rose, she fell twitching to the ground. Albus leapt to his feet, pulling out his wand and placing it at Malfoy's throat, "What did you do to her, Malfoy?" He roared.

"Nothing she won't live through," Malfoy chuckled, "What are you going to do about it anyway?" Albus hesitated, and Malfoy's glee increased at this, "Oh, come on, surely Famous dad taught you plenty of things, after all who am I compared to Lord Voldemort?" He shoved Albus to the floor and pointed his wand down at him, "But then, who are you compared to your father?" He smiles and raised his wand to strike, just then a red light collided with him sending him backward into the wall, his wand twirling from his had. It was caught by a tall black haired boy, not much older than Albus.

"Already causing trouble, Malfoy? The boy asked, "You'll soon realize your kind is almost gone, there's no place for people like you at Hogwarts anymore."

Malfoy staggered to his feet, "You'll soon realize I'm not someone to mess with."

"I doubt that," The boy stared him down, unflinching, "Now get the hell out of here, before I turn you into a Cornish Pixie."

Malfoy glared back, but soon decided not to challenge this boy, and turned without speaking and left the compartment. The boy turned to Albus, offering him a hand. Albus gladly accepted it and the boy helped him to his feet, "Thanks," Albus said, "I'm _"

The boy cut him off, "Albus Severus Potter, believe me I know," The boy smiled, "I'm Brian Finnigan."

Albus smiled, "My dad told me about your father."

Brian also smiled, "Yeah, our parents were school friends, that's kind of the theme this year; I already met your brother last year."

"James told me you get on alright."

"We'll we weren't thick as thieves or anything, but we were friends."

"What year is this for you?" Albus asked curiously.

"Second, so don't expect me to have everything figured out or anything." Brian seemed to be flattered by the way the boy admired him, "But I'll help you when I can."

There conversation was put on hold as Rose stirred on the floor, "What happened?" She asked.

"It's alright, you were just stunned" Brian answered, "It will wear off soon, I doubt Scorpius knows anything more powerful, not that he'd have the guts to try anything worse anyway."

Albus helped her into a seat and let her lean on him as she slowly, regained her stability. "Your dad was right about him," Albus said dejectedly, "I guess we'll be practicing spells in the room of requirement after all. What was that you used anyway?" He asked Brian.

"Simple disarming spell," He said, once again pleased with himself at having rescued Harry Potter's son, "I'll teach it to you later,"

"Thanks," The two chimed excitedly.

"Well, I guess I'll see you two at the feast, hope to have both of you in Gryffindor with me." He gave a short wave, and turned to leave.

"Wait," Albus called, "Would you like to stay with us? In case he comes back."

"Well, I doubt he'll try anything else," The two looked disappointed, "But I guess I can stick around." The three of them smiled. Brian took a seat on the other side of the compartment, and soon the younger two were asking question after question about Hogwarts. The conversation quickly turned to Quidditch, which was of particular interest to Albus, knowing his father was one of the best Seekers Hogwarts had ever seen and his mother still played the game professionally. "You should be a natural at the game," Brian commented, "Your brother and I are trying out for the team this year, course he's defiantly going to get a spot." Albus felt a twinge of fear crop up at the mention of his brother, and for a brief second he let his thoughts return to his dread of being sorted into Slytherin, he quickly pushed the thought back, and once again forgot his fear as he rejoined the conversation of the different house teams.

After an hour, the cart came by; Albus looked up expectantly, hearing from James about the sweet cart lady. He was met with quite a shock; the cart lady was apparently replaced with a cart man. He was old a frail looking, "Anything from the trolley?" He asked, his voice even older and frailer than his appearance. Still he had a kind and wise voice. Albus stood dumfounded, Brian however quickly moved forward throwing money already in hand.

"Three chocolate frogs," He said eagerly. The Old Man handed him the packages and accepted the money graciously." He then started to move off. Albus moved after him.

"What happened to the lady?" He asked.

"What lady?" the man asked pleasantly.

"The lady who pushed the cart," Albus said.

The man smiled, finding this deeply amusing, "This is your first year isn't it?" Albus nodded, "Well how did you know who was doing what last year?"

"My brother and dad told me all about Hogwarts, I remember details," He said plainly.

The old man chuckled, "Well if you must know, the lady they told you were about is on vacation." Albus looked uncertain, "Well, you didn't think all she did was push a trolley four times a year did you?" The man added.

"I never thought about it." Albus admitted.

"Well, we do a deal more I can tell you," The man was still smiling, "In fact, you've seen these?" He held a package of Bertie Bott's every flavor beans.

"Of course," Albus answered.

"Well she invented them." The man explained, "She's Bertie Bott."

Albus' eyes lit up, "Really, well why does she push a cart around for school kids, I'll bet she's rich?"

"You assume that jobs are always done for money." Albus clearly did not understand. "Sometimes people do a job because they just love doing it. Take Bertie, She loves candy, and loves bringing smiles to people, especially kids, she's invented all sorts of sweets and she sells them, along with an assortment of other snacks on the Hogwarts Express so she can see them being enjoyed." He smiled, "Besides what better way to market sweets than on a train full of unsupervised children."

Albus smiled, "So, who are you then?"

"Bertie's husband, Jeffrey." The man answered.

Albus smiled, "Jeffrey Bott, why haven't I heard of you?"

Jeffery laughed, "Because Jeffrey Bott doesn't exist. My name is Jeffrey Drooble."

Albus seemed even more confused, "Drooble's Best Blowing Gum? But I thought you said-?"

"Let me explain." The man said patiently. "Bertie invented her Every Flavor Beans before I married her, in fact we used to be competitors until we got married, we still are a bit, but it's all harmless."

Albus laughed, "Well it was nice to meet you Mr. Drooble."

"You as well, Albus Potter." He laughed again as Albus gave another look of surprise, "You should get used to people knowing you before you introduce yourself."

"I guess." Albus said, beginning to feel overwhelmed, not for the first or last time, by his father's legacy.

As if guessing his thought process, he said, "If I may offer another piece of advice?" Albus nodded. "Your life is your own; don't have so many expectations for yourself or others."

"What do you mean?" Albus asked innocently.

"Well, for instance, you were so upset when you didn't see Bertie, why?" Albus opened his mouth but Jeffrey continued, "Because it was what your father and brother had told you to expect." Albus nodded, beginning to understand the point, "And yet if you had seen her you would not have spoken to her and you would not have gained or learned anything from the experience." The man smiled more warmly and gently than he had yet, "And we would not have had this nice chat. So do me a favor, live your own life not an echo of your father's. Can you do that?"

"I think so." Albus answered.

"Good. It was nice meeting you Mr. Potter; I look forward to seeing you again." The man pushed his cart away, and Albus smiled and went back into his compartment.

"What took you so long?" Rose asked as he entered the compartment.

"Talking to Jeffrey." He answered, looking at the two of them who had moved to the floor and were playing a game of Wizard's Chess that Rose was clearly winning.

"Who's Jeffrey?" Rose asked.

"The cart guy." Albus answered sitting behind her on the seat.

"Oh." Rose said, still confused, but apparently satisfied enough to not question.

"Well, we're almost there, we should change into our uniforms." Brian said.

"Oh really," Rose said smugly, "You just don't want lose to a first year at Wizard's Chess."

They all laughed, Rose stood grabbed her stuff and left the room to change in a different compartment, Brian and Albus waited till she left and changed into their robes, picking up their conversation about Hogwarts.

"I'm not sure who the new charms teacher is going to be this year." Brian explained as he went through the list of teachers, dispelling all of the lies James had told Albus to scare him.

"New charms teacher?" Albus asked as Rose returned to the compartment.

"Yeah, Professor Flitwick passed last year, and Headmistress McGonagall had to fill in for him for the rest of the year."

"What happened?" asked Albus upset.

"He died in his sleep." Brian said respectfully, "He was very old."

"That's terrible." Albus said.

"Yeah, but it happens, things change eventually, and I think Flitwick was ready." The whistle blew, and they stopped talking and looked out the window. The train was stopping at Hogsmeade Station,

Albus could already hear Hagrid's familiar voice booming outside of the train," Firs' years over here!"

Albus moved quickly off the train and rushed to the front of a crowed of First Years, "Hello, Hagrid!" He said gleefully.

"'Ello, Al, How're yeh?" He asked.

"Great" Albus beamed.

"Well that's great." Hagrid said, but before Albus could continue the conversation, Hagrid continued his call to the First Years. After they had all gathered he lead them to the boats and their first view of Hogwarts. Rose and him boarded the same boat and looked up expectantly.

As they travelled through the water, the castle came into view. Albus sat, speechlessly staring at it. Grander and more awe striking than his family ever could of described it as being. His heart filled with anticipation, his every fear leaving him, he was finally here. He smiled and turned to Rose, the same stunned and happy expression on her face.

"There she is," Rose said, "Even better than described in Hogwarts, A History: Revised Edition!"

This widened Albus' grin, "You're a dork."


	3. Chapter 3: A Famous Ceremony

McGonagall could feel the energy draining as the boy climbed the stairs. Young Albus Potter, however, was much to nervous to notice his tired and sore limbs. He took each step with care, the tension in his body growing. His breaths were coming slowly and with great force, his heart raced, and the feeling that he might vomit at any moment was getting harder to ignore.

He looked for comfort from Rose, whose smile had always been willing to share some of its warmth with him. But there was no warmth to be found now, her lips trembled slightly. Her eyes darting back and forth, unable to focus on any specific detail of the overwhelming first look at Hogwarts. McGonagall knew the expression well. She'd seen it on hundreds of students that she has led on their first journeys to the great hall. She had even seen it on the young Harry Potter's face. It was an expression she had always found marginally amusing, but now that she was experiencing it again from their eyes after so many years, she found a new sympathy for the terrified young children.

She's always enjoyed being there for the students first moments in the castle, though she would never let any of this show to the children. She had led them with a stern and unforgiving face. A face she wore all her years of teaching, a face the children had come to fear and respect, and yet one that a few rare exceptions had come love. But she was not leading this particular group of students. Now, she played a much different role in the students lives, the role of Headmistress. At the forefront of this group of terrified youngsters was Neville Longbottom. A man whose bright and gracious personality was a stark contrast to the cold and emotionless face of McGonagall. However, this did not seem to help elate the young students fears much, which gave McGonagall a strange satisfaction.

They reached the doors of the Great Hall, the First Years piling onto the landing. Neville began the speech, once again with a much warmer feel than McGonagall's version, " In a few moments you will pass through these doors, and be sorted into your houses. The Houses are Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. It's an easy and completely painless process, despite what you may have heard from your older siblings." this last part was new, a courtesy McGonagall had not made.

"He's so much nicer than you were." Lavender voiced Minerva's thoughts.

"Perhaps, but nice is not always necessarily the best thing for a student." She recalled her several arguments with Neville on that subject.

Neville's welcoming speech ended and he opened the large double doors, revealing the vast and ornate dining hall within. The sky-ceiling and floating candles canopying the four house tables. It was much grander than Albus had imagined, and for a moment, he forgot his worries. He walked with the other First Years down the center aisle, trying to imagine it's immense history. His father had walked here his first year, his mother, his uncle and aunt. He thought of the duels that had taken place in this room and the battle of Hogwarts. He was a child once again completely overtaken by a legend. A legend he could never hope to match. He spotted James at the Gryffindor table, his brother smiled genuinely at him, but Albus could not look him in the eye. He turned his face instead to the Faculty table.

He examined each face, trying to place the ordinary faces with the famous names. He saw Hagrid and smiled, knowing there was at least one place in this new home he would always find refuge. To Hagrid's left he saw Professor Slughorn, still Potions master at Hogwarts, but more importantly Slughorn saw him, he eyed the boy with a keen interest, as if the boy was a blank canvas that he was planning to paint his masterpiece on. More than a little unnerved, he moved his attention to the next faculty member, a woman he did not recognize. She was older, and very robust, though she seemed good natured. His eyes moved to the opposite end of the table, fixing upon a woman he had not expected to see there, but he was very happily surprised. He had only met Cho Chang a couple of times, but he'd heard about her from his father. Though these stories were usually cut short by his mother, who would always see to need something just when the stories were becoming interesting. Still both father and mother agreed she was a good person and friend, and she was always more than kind to Albus. Next to her was an odd looking man, both taller and thinner than Albus had ever seen a normal human be. His appearance was oddly skeletal, and thoroughly creepy, but Albus remembered that he was not to judge people based on looks. He could only imagine what most people think the first time they meet Hagrid.

At the center of the table was Minerva McGonagal, headmistress of Hogwarts. Albus recalled his father's words, "The noblest, wisest, and most honest woman in Hogwarts." Minerva could not help but feel touched at this recollection. The praise was much appreciated and she was once again reminded of how grateful she had been for Harry Potter's respect and friendship. With this train of thought, however, came a fresh reminder of their mission. Harry Potter, wounded and bleeding in the room not two feet from where she was standing. The image came to her so vividly that she once again lost the memory, this time completely.

With a flash of lightning and the subsequent thunder, she was back in the real world. She looked at the time, astonished. What had felt like hours was in reality, less than a minute. Relieved, and yet still feeling the urgency of the task at hand she quickly focused her mind and rejoined the memory of Albus Potter. Once again it took her a moment to reorient herself. She heard the closing words of her speech welcoming the new students, she then saw herself motion for Neville to begin the sorting ceremony.

"Wood, Jessica." He ushered a young freckle-faced girl to the stool, and placed the sorting hat on her head. It was silent in the Great Hall as the hat considered which house to place the young child in, then with a loud pronouncement the hat cried, " Gryffindor!" The Hall filled with applause as the young girl joined the table of cheering Gryffindor. Albus could not help but feel a little discouraged, wondering how many kids could be chosen for Gryffindor in one year.

"What time was it?" Lavender asked, breaking McGonagal's attention from the Sorting ceremony.

"It's been less than a minute in the real world." Minerva answered confidently.

"Thats certainly good news." Lavender said, relieved that her plan was actually working. It gave her enough reassurance to finally voice her curiosities, "It's strange isn't it, headmistress."

"Indeed." she replied shortly, apparently uninterested in discussing the abnormality of their situation.

Lavender continued unfazed, " How does it feel, I mean, seeing these events again, but from someone else's eyes."

"Well..." Minerva considered telling her to focus on the task at hand, but she relented, " It it is a very odd sensation Ms. Brown, almost like Deja Vu, though I know I've seen it before and even when, somehow it feels distant." Lavender did not respond, McGonagal took it as a sign she had not understood, "I'm sorry but it's not an easy thing to describe."

This conversation was cut short, as the name "Potter, Albus" echoed throughout the hall, a silence unlike the other's fell. There was not a sound in the hall, it was if every person had completely frozen in anticipation. Albus's heart felt as if it might explode. He walked unsteadily up the steps, Neville discreetly grabbed his arm to steady him. Albus managed his way to the stool, he tried to climb onto it, but his shoe slipped on his first attempt, as if a shock went through the hall, every Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, jumped slightly, expecting to see Harry Potter's son fall on his face, though only a few wanted him to. Neville caught his arm once again, and helped him with attempt number two. This time Potter sat firmly on the stool without incident, and Neville lowered the hat onto his head.

Like the proceeding students, the hat had fallen over his eyes, and the world of Hogwarts disappeared. Albus breathed a sigh of relief. He was finally here, and able to plead his case to the hat, but something happened that Albus didn't expect: The hat said nothing to him. It did not ask him which house he thought was best, it didn't comment on the difficulty of the choice, and he didn't voice his thoughts Albus. In fact, the hat made no sound whatsoever. It remained completely silent, and it did so for quite a while. The quiet in the room was beyond maddening, and Albus's patience ran out. He decided to try and speak to the hat, but before he could even think of a way to address it, the hat loudly proclaimed, "Hufflepuff!"

The word reverberated, unhindered, throughout the hall. It rang in Albus' ears, and hung in the air for what seemed like ages. Albus did not move; he sat completely dumbfounded on the stool. Slowly the hall, filled with murmuring, as every house table began to discuss the unexpected event they had all just witnessed. The sorting hat was lifted off Albus's head and he stared out at the room, as it stared back at him. Then, quite suddenly, the Hufflepuff table exploded into unabashed cheering and applause. The rest of the hall followed soon after, but much less enthusiastically. The Griffendor's looked especially disappointed, faces downcast as they slowly clapped their hands. None looked more upset than Albus and James, who looked at each other in horror. James did not applaud his brother, he did not offer anything but a cold and distant expression, as if he did not even know Albus. Then, he looked away, and occupied himself by observing the ceiling.

Albus, slowly climbed down from the stool and made his way to the Hufflepuff table. Neville called out "Minter, Harold", and the young boy shuffled to his place on the stool. Albus stared at the long Hufflepuff table, most of its occupants shifted to make room for Albus to sit beside them, but Albus simply took a seat on the edge, and stared at his empty plate.

"Griffendor!" The hat shouted, and the students applauded, the ceremony now continuing as before.

"I didn't know." Lavender remarked, with a bit of sadness.

"Yes, it was quite the shock for all of us. But the sorting hat always has it's reasons. If it sorted him in Hufflepuff, then that is where he belonged." McGongal responded confidently.

"Still, he's so hurt." Lavender lamented.

McGongal sighed, "He will find his a place there, like all students do. I promise."

With Lavender, for the time being reassured, the two resumed their viewing. Albus Potter, was anything but reassured, he sat at the Hufflepuff table watching the rest of the ceremony, and quietly cried. He was alone. His family was no longer there to help him. He was in a different house, with strange people, in a strange castle, nothing like his parents description. He thought of his father, and how disappointed he was going to be when he heard the news.

As Rose sat on the stool, his heart hoped for a second. But deep down, he knew she would not be joining him, and as the Sorting Hat proclaimed, "Gryffindor!" to an enthusiastic hall, all hope died.

But suddenly, a spark ignited. He had been watching Rose join the Gryffendor table enviously, when he had met eyes with someone. Brian Finnegan, observed him from the Gryffindor table with sympathy. When there eyes met, he smiled warmly at Albus, and Albus could not help but smile back. His heart seemed less heavy for the rest of the feast. The food appeared before him, and he ate, feeling a little better with every bite. And when the doubt and fear began to creep back into his thoughts, he simply looked for the friend he had made.


	4. Chapter 4: A Not So Famous House

A Not-So-Famous House

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"Welcome to a new year, here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy." McGonagall heard herself say, finally getting use to this strange experience and simply allowing it to happen. She instead focused on paying great attention to the events unfolding, sure that they were somehow important. The same could not be said for Albus, who ignored her speech, the introduction of the various new faculty and the explanation of the rules (which Albus of course, already knew). He instead stared at his plate, occasionally looking up, determined to see if Rose was there, or Brian, or Hagrid. If anyone could see him, and to know that he was only separated from them by a short distance across the room. This last part was particularly hard to convince himself. It was not just the room that separated him from them. There was something else, a new barrier, invisible, but far more divisive than simple distance.

At the end of the feast, Albus and the rest of the first years were lead from the Great Hall to their Common Rooms. Albus had not heard anything about the Hufflepuff common room, other than it was located in the basement. Under different circumstances, he would of felt curious, even excited to see the inside. Instead he felt only the feeling of marching towards an unwanted fate, someone else's destiny, not his own, not a Potter's. At the head of the line was the Hufflepuff prefect, a boy who introduced himself as Noah Thompson. He had a kind, and excitable face, but seemed to Albus to lack the dignity and pride of the other prefects. He lead the first years at his own sauntering pace, explaining various things about the castle, things Albus already knew, and therefore did not take interest in. The caste itself, however, was still of great interest to Albus. His eyes wandered over the various statues and portraits. But soon they were lead from the intrigue of the main level down the stairs into the basement. Noah mentioned something about the kitchen, and that sneaking out in the middle of night for snacks was the quickest way most Hufflepuff's land in detention. The first years all laughed, Albus did not.

They were lead past the kitchen around to a dead end. The first years crowded around the wall, decorated by the portrait of a very short man sitting in a rocking chair.

"Password?" the portrait asked politely.

"fidelitas quod veneratio" Noah responded. The portrait swung open, revealing the entrance to the common room. It was a very warm and inviting place, decorated with bright yellows, and filled with armchairs and plants. Many of the older students were still in the room waiting to welcome the new students.

Albus was pleasantly surprised, and for a moment it almost felt like home, but as the portrait behind him closed, shutting out all light from the hallway, he remembered what this truly was, his prison. He was trapped in here, unable to leave, unable to find Rose and talk with her about the sorting ceremony and the magnificent castle. He pictured her in his mind, climbing up the stairs to the Gryffindor tower, the same stairs his father and mother had climbed, the stairs that James had climbed, and the stairs he, Albus, was meant to climb, or so he thought.

He had been so lost in his imaginings, he hadn't noticed that the entire room was staring at him. Many smiled warmly, some seemed to be guessing his thought process and looked sympathetic. Albus wondered if he should speak, if only to be polite, but he could think of nothing to say, and to introduce himself would obviously be unnecessary. A fact lost on one of the younger students.

"You're Albus Potter." The boy said, without a hint of sarcasm.

"I am." Albus responded very differently.

The boy smiled, apparently unaware or unaffected by Albus' tone."Sit down, make yourself at home."

Albus didn't know why, but this invitation made him angry. Maybe it was the boy's use of the word: home, or maybe it was the fact that Albus knew if he did sit down he'd be treated to an endless stream of questions about his family. In any case, Albus didn't not feel particularly inclined to have any further conversation with the boy, or anyone in the room. But determined not to be rude, he simply lied, " I'm actually kind of tired."

"Just for a while," the boy insisted, and the other's joined in.

" I really-" Albus started, but he didn't know what to say.

"Come on, you're Harry Potter's son, I'm sure you have lots to tell!" A girl from the back.

"It's so cool that you're in Hufflepuff!" one of the older kids.

"Really?" Albus said, more sarcastically than he meant to.

An older kid got defensive at this, " Its a great house. You may be famous and all, but you don't have the right to talk bad about our house. It deserves your respect."

Albus knew he had nothing good to say in response, and returned to his original plan, "I'm just tired, that's all"

Noah moved forward at this trying to break up a fight before it started, " As I'm sure all the first years are. Your dormitory is through the tunnel on the left. You'll find your things have already been unpacked."

Albus nodded, and lead the way down the tunnel to the circular door of his new room. He moved quickly into the room avoiding the stares of his fellow first years, until he reached his trunk. The other boys were moving excitedly around the room, which they followed with equally excited introductions. Albus, knowing once again that this was unnecessary, simply searched through his trunk for his pajamas. He stumbled upon a note written in James' handwriting, which read: Congratulations on making Gryffindor! I never doubted you!

Albus froze in the spot, he read it over and over. At first he thought it was a cruel joke of James', his punishment to Albus for being unworthy of Gryffindor. But James had to have hidden the note before they had even left for King's Cross Station, which meant something far worse to Albus, the note had been sincere. James' truly had believed in him, and he had failed him, and the rest of his family. Albus began to cry again, and this time he did not have Rose to look to, or even Brian. He abandoned the search for his pajamas and hurled himself into the bed. He was sure the other boys were watching him, wondering why he was so upset, but he didn't care. He didn't need them, he needed his family. He shut his eyes tight and didn't open them until the morning.

He awoke to find himself alone in the room, the other boys having already left for breakfast. Albus couldn't help but feel hurt that they didn't invite him to go with them, but remembering his own behavior the night before, he didn't honestly blame them. Still it felt better to be angry at them than at himself, so he made his way to the Great Hall determined to "out-ignore" them.

He remembered the way to the Great Hall without much effort. When he arrived, most of the students were already there. The tables were full, he immediately spotted Rose at the Gryffindor table, and he fought the urge to go and sit next to her, this was made much easier when he saw James beside her actively "not-noticing" Albus. He moved to the Hufflepuff table and once again reclaimed his spot at the very end. He mechanically added food to his plate, and watched the room.

At the sight of Scorpius at the Slytherin table, his blood boiled. He didn't at first understand why, Scorpius was not doing anything particularly bothersome, he merely laughed and talked with his friends. He looked happy, so happy in fact that Albus wished he could switch places with him, he was in the house he belonged, with people who understood him, and his parents would not be disappointed. It was then Albus realized why he had been so upset, at Scorpius, at the other people in his house, at being sorted in Hufflepuff in the first place. He had been afraid of being sorted into Slytherin, because he was afraid of what that would mean about him. Albus had always considered himself to be a good person, and being sorted in Slytherin, whatever his father might insist, would call that into question, but at least there he would matter. It occurred to Albus that never once had the possibility of being sorted into Hufflepuff even crossed his mind. He wanted to be in Gryffindor, and he was afraid to have been Slytherin, but to be in Hufflepuff was beyond consideration, beneath him. Yet, here he was, with the rest of those not worthy to be sorted into any of the other three houses. What did this mean about him?

He noticed the other boys in his class, sitting several seats down talking to some of the older students. He couldn't hear them but he guessed from there frequent glances that they were talking about him, which only increased Albus' anger.

It was then Albus realized that he did not even know their names. They had all introduced themselves to each other last night, but Albus had not really listened or cared. He knew their appearance. There was the short and rather large one; he had blonde hair and green eyes. Then to taller ones, one with blonde hair, and one with brown, both had hazel eyes. Finally, there was a small boy about Albus' size, he also had blonde hair, and crystal blue eyes which met Albus'. The boy quickly looked away rolling his eyes. Once again Albus felt hurt, he wished he could go over to them and talk about whatever classes they had that day, but soon they moved off and his chance was gone. The whole hall began to empty, Albus took out his schedule and looked it over, the first class of the day was Charms, a class Hufflepuff shared with Gryffindor. Albus' heart skipped with new enthusiasm and he set off to find the class.

"What do you have first? Albus turned with surprise, to find Brian Finnigan.

"Charms." Albus answered.

Brian laughed, though Albus did not know what was funny. "Luck you. They're starting you with the fun stuff. I got stuck with half a day of potions before I got to learn a single spell."

Albus was reminded of how excited he was to actually begin learning magic. "How did it go?" He asked with interest.

"What?"

"Your first spell."

Brian laughed again, Albus was still not sure why, " Oh, I accidentally blew up a feather and set the desk on fire." Albus did not find this amusing, and wondered whether such accidents where a common occurrence. Brian continued, "I can help you find the class if you need, this castle can get pretty confusing."

Albus was sure he could find it on his own and instead moved to the more pressing issue on his mind, " You're still talking to me?" He asked warily.

"What do you mean?" Brian asked with surprise.

"I'm not in Gryffindor, James said I'd be the enemy." Albus responded.

Though Albus found this the least funny yet, Brian laughed once more, "Your brother likes to joke, I wouldn't take him to seriously." Albus tried to smile, but couldn't. He knew better. Brian looked on the boy with compassion, and offered again, " Why don't I take you to that class?"

Albus shrugged, "I can find it myself."

"Alright." Brian said, giving in, "Try and have a good day. I promise you'll like it here if you give it a chance." He smiled once more before walking out into the hall, Albus followed.

The charms class was almost empty when Albus entered, a surprise since he was one of the last to leave the Great Hall. He stood in the doorway for a few seconds, wondering if he was in the right spot. It was a large classroom with steps leading down from the door to the teachers area. The only other person in the class was the very tall, very thin man from the faculty table, he was reading at his desk and did not look up. Albus spoke quietly out of nervousness, " Is this the charms classroom?" The man continued to read, without stopping. Albus spoke again, louder " Excuse me, sir?"

The man either didn't notice or didn't care, both were things that Albus was not used to. He moved forward to get closer, but tripped over one of the chairs which sent him falling head first towards the stairs. The man drew his wand and cast the spell in a blink, Albus was suspended midair, face inches from the steps. "Im terribly sorry, I didn't hear you come in." The man said, standing.

"Is this the charms class?" Albus asked, still hanging in the air.

"Yes it is," the man answered, "I'm Professor Anomalous, the new charms teacher, so please don't hesitate to ask me anything, and I'll try my best to help. Well, I guess I shouldn't say 'anything' because there are certainly some things I couldn't help with, and definitely some that I shouldn't. For instance, I refuse to teach any spells to assist in practical jokes or rule breaking, except of course the ones required in the standard curriculums, and now that I think of it I can't think of a single spell in our curriculum which can't used for mischief, or should I say misused. Anyway, sorry, I tend to ramble, but I am new and still learning the ropes and all, but that doesn't mean you should respect me. I am after all your teacher. Anyway, was there something you needed?"

He spoke with an uncommon speed, it was difficult for Albus to follow, but he thought there was an offer of help somewhere in there, so he asked, politely as he could, " I'd like to be set down, please."

"Oh, of course." Anomalous said with a laugh. " I am sorry but these things do tend to escape me."

"Thank you, sir." Albus said.

"Don't mention it, and take any seat you like, but do mind the stairs this time." The man returned to his reading.

Albus looked around the empty class room, " Where is everyone else?" The man did not respond, already too immersed in his book. Albus decided not to try again, and took a spot near the middle of the class, on the aisle. He pulled out his charms book and thumbed through the pages, mostly just wanting something to do. The spells all looked interesting, and he was eager for the class to start.

He heard someone else enter, and turned, to his joy he found it was Rose. They smiled happily at each other. Rose came down the aisle, Albus scooted over to make room for her.

"How did you get here so fast?" She asked as she sat next to him.

"What do you mean?" Albus asked, confused.

"It took me forever to find this class, and I had help from a second year." She grumbled.

"I don't know, it just came easily to me." Albus smiled. "So is that where everyone else is?"

"Of course, I'm only on time because I left so early." She said with pride, before changing the subject, "How was your first night?"

"Fine. I went to sleep." He responded.

"Really?" She said with genuine surprise. "I couldn't sleep at all, it's all too overwhelming. I just sat up all night preparing."

Albus smiled genuinely, "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

She smiled back for a few seconds, before asking a little too casually, " And how is the Hufflepuff Common Room?"

"Fine I guess. Like I said, I mostly slept." He hoped to end the topic there, but something in him made him ask, " How was Gryffindor's?"

Rose smiled, "Oh, it was alright. I mostly read." They both smiled. She noticed his book was open, and added with delight, "I see you've been doing some reading too. What do you think? It's such a great guide isn't it?"

"It's alright, the spells look easy enough." Albus answered.

This seemed to draw the attention of the Professor once more, for he looked up from his book with a smile. "So it may seem, but reading spells and performing them are two entirely different things. But with my guidance you should all be doing simple charms by the end of the week. That is if you are willing to work hard, Mr. Potter, and I hope you are, because you have quite a name to live up to-," He stopped suddenly as if suddenly becoming aware of Rose's presence, "Miss Weasley, I'm afraid your not supposed to sit by students in different houses, at least not your first year. We are given strict instruction to help you properly mingle into your proper houses."

"But she's the only other one here right now!" Albus protested.

"I'm sorry but I'm afraid you'll have to move to a different table." He said distractedly.

Albus looked miserable, but did not protest a second time. Rose, however, did, " I'm sorry Professor, but I don't see the harm in sitting together until the class begins, after all isn't cooperation between houses just as important."

The Professor stopped, and turned slowly. Albus was worried that Rose was going to get in trouble in their first class, but the man smiled, "Of course, but just until class begins."

"Thank you, sir" Albus beamed. Rose re-took her seat and the two sat talking as the class filled up, until finally Rose had to leave to join her fellow Gryffindors.

"Alright, Welcome young witches and wizards, to your very first class at Hogwarts, I am your charms teacher, Professor Anomalous. I'm sure you're all very eager to get started so I'll skip the usual-"

The door slammed open and a frazzled looking Hufflepuff ran in, Albus recognized him as the one who rolled his eyes at him, still not knowing any of their names. "Sorry, I got lost."

The professor only grinned, "Thats alright Mr. Gray. It is to be expected your first day, but I shouldn't make a habit out of it. If you'll please take your seat." Gray found the only free spot next to Albus, he sighed heavily before sitting down. Anomalous continued, "Now since, you're all so very eager, I figured we skip the usual boring introductory lectures and begin practicing a simple spell for your first day." The class applauded appreciatively.

The spell they were learning was the "Hover Charm", Albus had seen his parents use it around the house, and was eager to try it. Rose volunteered to pass out the feathers, and soon the entire class was trying it. The room was filled with shouts of "Wingardium Leviosa" at various degrees of correct pronunciation. Rose, even though she was the last to begin, was the first to successfully levitate her feather, scoring ten points for Gryffindor. Albus quietly celebrated for a moment before remembering he was not a part of a Gryffindor and this did not benefit him. He quickly returned to work on the feather, which had not even budged for him, and it would not. By the end of class almost all of the students had levitated, or at least moved the feather by the end of class. Gray, the boy beside him had managed to send his feather across the room and into one of the Gryffindor girl's hair, without her noticing. She walked off down the hallway oblivious.

Albus was discouraged, but Anomalous had reminded them that these things take time and practice, which would have been more encouraging if Albus wasn't one of the three students in class to which he was addressing. Still, Albus headed to his next class, Transfiguration, with hope.

Transfiguration was taught by a very interesting old man. He walked with a severe limp, and took, what felt like days, to cross the class room, but he turned himself into a bird (A red-tailed hawk to be exact) and soared around the class room to demonstrate his abilities. He then quickly set them on turning dried leaves into flowers. Once again, Rose was one of the first to complete the assignment, and once again Albus was one of the only to make no visible progress by the end of the class.

From there Albus went to lunch, where he sat in his usual spot and ate alone. He could hear the students talking about him, but he didn't even bother looking up, though he recognized Gray's voice among the rest. He made a comment Albus couldn't quite make out, and the group burst into laughter, when Albus finally looked up he realized that the group was made up of more than just Hufflepuffs. There were at least four Slytherins in the group, and Scorpius was among them, he looked at Albus with a malicious grin. Albus left the table, and hurried away, but he thought he heard one word as he walked away: "Squib". He doubled his speed to his last class of the day, potions.

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Please review! Tell me what you like, and what I can improve on.


	5. Chapter 5: The Infamous Nickname

The Infamous Nickname of the Not Yet Famous Son

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He entered the class a full thirty minutes early, to his surprise Slughorn was already there. He greeted him as soon as he walked through the door, " Mr. Potter, you're here very early I see." He moved over to Albus and ushered him into the classroom without giving him a chance to speak, "But then I knew you would be, after hearing of your family's history with potions. And I was right. You were just too excited to wait. Isn't that right my boy?"

"History?" Albus asked plainly.

"Well, your grandmother was a master of potions, if you'll forgive the turn of phrase, and your father was quite the natural himself. It's a shame you're brother James doesn't seem to be picking it up quite as well, but then he has his other uses."

"Uses?" Albus thought aloud.

"Skills, my dear boy!" Slughorn exclaimed. "Each of you Potter's have unique and very individual skills. You make quite a set."

"Set of what?" was growing more uncomfortable.

"Set of what, indeed." Slughorn nodded, and moved towards the door. "Now, I need to get some more supplies, but please take any seat." Albus nodded. "I'll return in a moment."

Albus chose a spot far away from the front and sat down, he looked at the ingredients they would be using, it all looked familiar enough, but he never tried mixing them before. He wondered if he really was gifted like his father, or grandmother, and felt hope that maybe he'd be good at something his first try.

"What are you doing here so soon, Potter?" Scorpius Malfoy stood in the doorway, he was alone for now, but Albus knew he had already been forming his group. "Are you hiding?"

"Why would I be hiding?" Albus tried to control his temper.

"Because everyone knows the truth now." Malfoy smirked.

"Truth?" Albus knew the answer, but he needed him to say it.

Malfoy happily complied, "That you're a little squib, aren't you?"

Albus stood and drew his wand so quickly Scorpius didn't have time to react. He pressed his wand into Malfoy chest and backed him into a wall, "You sure about that?"

For a moment Malfoy looked terrified, but he quickly recovered, "Then prove it. Prove your not a squib."

Albus raised his wand, a wave of determination filling him, " Wingardium Leviosa!" he yelled.

Scorpius laughed, " I knew it! I knew you were a Squib.!" He drew his own wand, " Let me show you how a 'true' Wizard does it." he raised his wand and shouted, " Wingardium Leviosa."

Albus felt himself pull off the ground, he tried to grab one of the chair or tables, but he was pulled out of their reach. "Put me down, Malfoy!"

Scorpios cackled "Or what?" Albus tried to spell again and again, but nothing happened. And the class was beginning to fill up, with each new person Scorpius would always announce, "Look, it's Potter the Squib!" the students all laughed, and even the few who didn't wouldn't dare cross Malfoy.

"What is going on here?" Slughorn barked as he entered, and with the flick of his wand Albus was able to stand back on the ground. "Ten points from Slytherin!"

"But we're your own house!" Malfoy protested.

"That behavior is inexcusable, Mr. Malfoy, I will not have in my classroom." Slughorn maintained. Albus had finally reoriented himself, and hurled himself at Malfoy punching him several times in the gut before Slughorn separated them. "Potter, I had just said...20 points from Hufflepuff, and I shall be seeing you in detention."

Albus sat down wordlessly, still flushed with anger and adrenaline. He did not speak for the rest of class, and simply carried out the assignment as instructed. Too his dismay, he was not particularly gifted at potions, but at least he was not particularly ungifted either. He finished the assignment and stormed from the room as soon as they were released, followed by the chants of his fellow students, "Potter the Squib!".

After the horrors the first day at Hogwarts had brought him, Albus decided not to go down to supper, but instead, stayed in his room. He didn't want to cry, but it was all he had been able to do since he arrived. He hated Hogwarts, and everything about the school. He wished he could go home to his mother and father and forget all about this place. Hogwarts was not the place they had described. It was cruel and cold, dark and lonely. Even Rose was kept from him here, the one person he could turn to when all else failed. He looked at his trunk; he had not even begun to unpack his belongings. It would be so easy for him to run away, to run back home where it was safe, and he was loved. He thought how wonderful it would be to see his parents again, how they would hug him, hold him close, make him feel safe again, but they would be so disappointed. Hogwarts had been his father's life, his joy; he would never understand a son who couldn't belong there. Then, thinking of his father, he could fight it no longer, and he began to sob.

Footsteps approached from tunnel, and Albus tried to dry his eyes, but he couldn't. Gray appeared in the doorway, "Oh, sorry," he said awkwardly, looking down at the ground. "You got a letter. You weren't at dinner so I thought..." he sat the letter on the bed and turned to walk out. He paused, and finally turned, looking Albus in the eyes, " You can't do this forever."

"What?" Albus asked, trying to sound normal.

Gray sighed, " You have to make friends, you can't keep ignoring the people in your house."

"Doesn't seem like any of you want to talk to me anyway," Albus returned.

"It help if you weren't always glaring at us, insulting our house, or crying about getting sorted here," Gray was loosing patience.

"It help if all of you weren't calling me a squib."

"You're right," Gray admitted, "But what happened in class today would never of happened if you'd been on our team, instead always looking over at the Gryffindor table."

"It wouldn't of happened if you weren't all cowards too afraid to stand up to Malfoy," Albus was almost crying again.

"Your letter's there, come down if you don't feel like being alone all year," Gray started to storm out again, he stopped again, and turned, "I promise if you do, no Hufflepuff will ever call you a Squib again," and after this he left.

Albus tore open the letter, as expected it was from his mom and dad. He read it carefully:

_Our Dear Albus,_

_We know you are upset. We love you and are so proud of you know matter what house you are in. Hufflepuff is a wonderful house, and we are sure you will do great things there. We know its hard being away from Rose and James, but we hope you will make new friends and enjoy your first semester at Hogwarts. _

_Write us soon, _

_Mom and Dad_

Albus read the letter a few times, reacting differently each time. The first time he did not believe them, the second time he did, the next he wasn't sure. He read enough that he memorized it, and then started playing it over in his head. Proud? Could they really be, or were they just trying to make him feel better. His father and mother did talk about there friends from Hufflepuff, fighting with them against Lord Voldemort, Albus imagined it would be hard to have anything but respect for people you risked death with. As he went over the letter the last time, he decided, for whatever reason he believed them, they loved him and were proud. He was comforted enough, he decided to go down to supper.

The Hufflepuff table was waiting for him, and when he appeared in the doorway, they moved to make room. Albus sat beside Gray, who introduced him again, "Everybody, this is Albus Potter."

"We know who he is, Gray," the shorter blonde laughed, "I'm Edgar Wells"

"Jacob Benette," the tall brunette.

"Ryan Creevey," the tall blonde.

They continued down the table, all introducing themselves. Albus remembered their names easily, and soon they were moving on to other conversations, like how quirky Professor Anomalous was, or Quidditch. By the time they had finished talking it was time to go up to the dorms. Albus lead the way to the common room for the first years.

"How'd you know you way around the castle so well already?" Ryan asked.

"I don't know, I've just always been good with remembering things," Albus answered with a hint of pride.

"I'm gonna start follow you to class then," Edgar said in awe.

"Me too!" said Jacob.

"Yeah, me too," from Ryan.

"I can find my own way," Gray joked. They laughed as they reached the common room door. "You remember that too?" Gray asked.

"Of course." Albus responded, and he spoke the password, ""fidelitas quod veneratio"

The door swung open, to which the boys fake applauded.

Over the next few days, the Hufflepuffs kept Gray's word. Albus, however continued to have no luck with performing any kind of spell no matter how simple. The boys in his class didn't care however, as he was the sole reason first year Hufflepuffs were never late to class, a record the other houses did not share, and the teachers were beginning to notice and reward it. This only made the other schools increase there use of "Potter the Squib", usually provoking threats of violence from the Hufflepuff boys. Albus appreciated the way they protected him, but he grew increasingly frustrated at his inability to preform magic. Soon, the nickname and the classes became to much, and he started to doubt himself whether or not he truly possessed any magical ability. He was very happy when the weekend came, but as all his teachers had assigned him "extra practice" on the spells he wasn't learning in class, it wasn't much of a break. Still he could at least practice the spells in private in his room, far from Malfoy and his jeers.

But the weekend passed and no progress had been made, and Albus was close to giving up all hope. He stalled at breakfast, picking at food he hadn't eaten any of, till his friend insisted that if they didn't go to charms soon, they would get any bonus house points for getting all of Hufflepuff there before a single other house member showed up. So Albus stood and trudged the all to short route to the Charms class. The other boys rushed up the stairs to the room, only to find Rose had beaten them there. She sat against the wall waiting for the door to open.

"Why is it always you?" Ryan whined.

"Dedication," Rose answered simply. Albus noticed James passing by in the hallway with his friends, he looked at the ground, knowing James would not want to talk to him.

"You spoil everything," Gray complained as he sat next to her.

"Malfoy," she warned, and Gray quickly stood back up, ready to defend.

"Well, if it isn't Squib Potter, and his body guards." Scorpius sneered, " There has to be a better way to find you way around the castle without having to keep "His Worthlessness" around."

"You're just jealous were forty points ahead of Slytherin in the house cup." Gray fired back.

Malfoy smirked, "A temporary set back. Pretty soon they'll start deducting points for incompetence, or just expel him all together." James stopped in his tracks. Malfoy noticed this and continued, "Seriously, I don't know how a Squib such as you even made it into the school, Potter."

James turned to face him, "Don't call him that!" Albus looked up in suprise, but Malfoy only widened his grin. A group had started to form in the hallway, hoping to see a fight. They looked back and forth from James to Scorpius.

"What, Squib," Malfoy baited, "But that's what he is: a little Squib Potter."

James stood his ground, " No, don't call him that. Don't call him Potter, he doesn't deserve that name."

James then turned and walked away with his friends. Albus felt as if he'd been punched in the gut, he sunk to the ground, failing once again to fight back tears. Malfoy started cackling in glee, and walked off with his friends as well, laughing the whole way, down the hallway.

Rose moved forward to hug Albus, he cried on her shoulder, "That was completely uncalled for! I'll talk to him, Albus. Don't worry."

Ryan moved forward, "Yeah, besides, you'll figure out you're magic, it just takes time, right?"

Rose nodded, " Right, every wizard learns at their own pace, it's completely normal for some first years to take a little longer than others. They're just making a big deal out of nothing."

At this moment, Professor Anomalous came around the corner, "Alright class, let's see I see equal parts Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Sorry, no bonus points today. Well then, shall we?" He opened the door and let the crowed in, Rose and Albus entered last. The professor noticed Albus but did not seem to notice that he'd been crying, "Hey there, Albus, I'm sure will figure it out today. Off you go!"

Albus made his way to his spot. He saw the feather on the table and knew already that they were still working on the "Hover Charm". The class started to grown. "Not again!" cried a Gryffindor girl next to Rose. Albus wondered briefly if he were holding the entire class up from moving on to a new spell, but he pushed this away and tried to focus on his work. Try as he might, however, he could not focus today. The only thought in his head was James. He pictured him over and over, trying to see a hint that he was joking somehow, that it was just one of Jame's tricks he never really got. But the face in Albus' mind was not joking, it was cold, unsympathetic, and angry.

Albus realized he had been screaming the incantation, wildly poking at the feather with his wand. The entire class was staring at him. He stared back for few seconds, until almost all of the Gryffindors simultaneously broke out into laughter. They soon started chanting, "Squib Potter! SQUIB POTTER!".

Anomalous and Rose tried to silence the Gryffindors but they were to lost in there glee. Albus stood and stormed from the room slamming the door behind him, he heard a collective gasp, but he did not care, he ran down the stairs as fast as he could he didn't know where he wanted to go he just wanted to go away. He ran through the castle till he got lost in it, but he didn't care, he'd run in circles if he had to, he just wanted to run.

He stopped finally, to catch his breath, he sat on the floor, burying his head in his arms. He wondered what he would do now, he knew he had probably earned another detention by storming out, maybe they'd let him do them back to back to get them out of the way, if they let him stay at all. Scorpius was right, there's only so long they can try and teach magic to a non-magical student. Was he really a squib? He, the son of the famous Harry Potter. It didn't make any sense.

Albus looked up at his surroundings, and noticed something curious: a door. But this was not the curious part. The curious part was that he had run past this exact spot at least three times and he had not seen a door here before. His heart leapt. Had he really discovered it? His first year, his first month, and he had found it?

Albus stood slowly and walked towards the door, it opened easily for him, it looked heavier than it was. He stepped inside. There was warm room waiting for him. It had throw pillows, a collection of books and notebooks, soft chairs, and windows on all sides facing out over all the grounds of Hogwarts, even though Albus distinctly knew that the architecture could not allow for this. He looked out over the view, it overlooked Hagrid's and the dark forest to one side, the lake to another, the greenhouse, the courtyards. It was gorgeous.

"It's amazing isn't it?" Brian's voice came from behind him, startling him.

"It is," Albus answered, still stunned. Brian surveyed Hogwarts with him. Albus turned to Brian, "How did you find this place?" he asked.

"I don't know really. I was ducking out of Professor Binn's History of Magic class, looking for a place to hide out till it was over and I found this place. "

"Have you told James about it?" Albus asked temporarily forgetting his argument with James, knowing how much he would love this place.

Brian looked suprised, "No. Why would I? It's just a room I use to hideout occasionally."

Albus was stunned, "But, then...You don't know what room this is do you?"

"It's just a room," Bryan responded.

"Not just any room," Albus exclaimed, "It's the room of requirement!"

"The room of what?" Brian laughed at his enthusiasm.

Albus looked at him with disbelief, "I'll get Rose to explain it to you," he said finally.

"Alright then," Brian chuckled, "So what brings you here, Albus Potter?" Albus remembered his reason for hiding, and remained silent. "Is something wrong?" Brian continued.

Albus sat in one of the arm chairs, " It's just James. Well not really just James."

"Is it the nickname?" Brian asked.

"You heard?" Albus asked, embarrassed.

"I did, I think it's silly," Brian sat by him. "Just Slytherin kids behaving like they always do. Immature and stupid."

"It's not just the nickname." Albus said.

"Then what?" Brian asked.

"James said I don't deserve to be called a Potter," Albus confessed.

"That's ridiculous!" Brian objected, "Though to be fair, it's not that unexpected."

"What do you mean?" Albus asked anxiously.

Brian quickly clarified, "I mean, James is sort of like that. He does things like that, because he thinks he's better than everyone, a lot of Gryffindors do."

"But aren't you supposed to be the good guys?"

"Says who?" Brian scoffed, "Maybe when you're Dad was one, but now we're all a bunch of arrogant, self-important jerks, with hero complexes.

Albus questioned, "Aren't you a Gryffindor?"

" I said we," Brian replied, " I love Gryffindor, and we're good people, most of us, even James most the time, but that doesn't mean I don't know our flaws," Albus nodded and Brian took it as a sign to continue," Truth is we haven't lost the house cup but 5 times in the last 19 years, we figure Hogwarts still kinda owes us because of the whole your dad saving the wizarding world thing. Don't get me wrong, I like it that way, I'm just saying, some people's heads get a little loaded. They say things they don't mean."

"Maybe." Albus said, halfheartedly.

"Well, anyway, I think whatever class you were hiding from is probably over, we can probably head to lunch now." Brian stood and stretched, "What do you say?"

Albus nodded, and they went from the room, back through the castle to the Great Hall. As Albus entered, every eye watched him, many whispered as he walked by. He thought how strange everyone seemed to be acting, as if they'd never seen someone storm out of class before, he wondered if he was in more trouble than he realized. Rose and Gray ran forward.

"Where have you been?" Rose demanded, frantically.

"I ran away. Am I in that much trouble?" Albus was beginning to worry.

"Trouble? That was the coolest thing I've ever seen!" Gray exclaimed.

Albus was confused, "What was? Me storming out?"

Grey looked even more amazed, "You mean you didn't do it on purpose?"

"Do what? What are you talking about?" Albus pushed.

Gray looked at Rose, who explained, " When you walked out of the room all the feathers flew into the air at the same time."

"Really?" Albus asked stunned, " I did magic?"

Rose continued, "Well, then the feathers, sort of... burst into flames and chased some of the Gryffindors around the room." Albus couldn't help but laugh. It was an amazing feeling.

"I knew you could do it!" Gray patted him on the back.

"I did magic." Albus repeated.

"Yeah, well watch out, cause some of the other houses are calling you 'Scary Potter' no," Gray warned.

"It's better than Squib," They laughed, and walked back to the tables, to eat lunch, and for the rest of the day the Gryffindors, Slytherins and Ravenclaws kept their distance from Albus, which he did not mind so much, he even used the opportunity to chase Scorpius down the hallway screaming the whole way, until he was caught by McGonagall and lost five points for Hufflepuff.

"Worth it." Gray commented as they walked away.

"You deducted points for that?" Lavender asked McGonagall, breaking their silent observation.

"Five, Miss Brown, and I gave them back to the next Hufflepuff I saw for having their shoelaces tied." McGonagall defended herself.

"Did you know all this was happening, Headmistress?" Lavender asked.

"Some, though I must admit to experience it from his eyes is another matter entirely," McGonagall answered, I do wonder, however, Miss Brown, what this has to do with the information we are trying to obtain."

"It part of the story he wants us to see, that's all I know." Lavender responded.

"Very well."

That night, when Albus got back to the dorm he found a note from James reading:

_I'm sorry_

_-James_

_P.S. I was going to write this even before I knew you could fry me with your mind._

Albus laughed, before crawling in his bed and falling to sleep.

* * *

I ended up splitting chapter 4 into chapters 4 and 5, sorry if the transitions or the breaks are a little jarring.

Please Review!


	6. Chapter 6: The Collector of Famous Perso

The Collector of Famous Persons

Albus did not know what to expect from his detention with Slughorn, he made his way down to the dungeon nervously. Albus hoped that Slughorn's desire to collect him would outweigh his anger, but Albus had disobeyed him in front of the entire class, and more importantly, he had not proved himself a particularly valuable trinket. If Slughorn had lost interest, he would not show mercy.

Albus hoped his name still carried enough significance to spare him. He knocked quietly on the door to the potions classroom. There was no answer. Albus checked his sheet again:

_Potions class, 7:00. Eat dinner before. _

Albus knocked again louder, wondering if his lack of appetite at dinner was getting him into trouble, again. This time, however, the door opened quickly, revealing the dimly lit classroom within. Slughorn walked away from the door, clearly focused on something else, but his voice spoke warmly, "Albus, my boy, I see your early as always, I was just preparing the classroom for you."

Albus spoke nervously, his throat drier than he'd remembered it being outside the room, "Prepared?"

"Yes, I felt I should use this opportunity to help you move forward in your magical education." Slughorn smiled.

"That's my punishment, more practice?" Albus asked.

Slughorn forced a laugh, "Well if you'd prefer I'm sure I can arrange another detention for you. Scrubbing out caldrons used to make Swamp Droughts or something equally foul."

"No." Albus answered quickly, "No sir, I was just-"

"You expected worse?" Slughorn asked knowingly. Albus nodded slowly. "Well," he continued, "Considering your father's stories of Hogwarts detentions I'm not surprised. You probably were concocting all manner of wild notions, but I can assure you, my boy, my every action is done with your education in mind. I'm not interested in making your life miserable. After all, what good would it do to hinder your potential. You have so much to offer this world."

Albus wondered if "the world" should be replaced with "my career", but he didn't argue, glad that his detention would not involve risking his life in someway. He stood straighter, a new hope coming over him, maybe Slughorn could really help him. "I'm ready," he said with confidence.

"Very well," Slughorn began, " Now, as you demonstrated rather theatrically, however unintentionally in Professor Anomalous' class, it's not that you do not possess the ability to do magic, merely than you have difficult harnessing and focusing it."

"I guess."

"So, all we need to do is discover what it is that's preventing you and push through it, then all should be well." Slughorn continued.

"Alright," Albus said eagerly.

"Very well then, so let's begin," Slughorn's enthusiasm was infectious, "Now let us start with the hover charm," Slughorn said pointing at a feather on one of the desks. Seeing Albus look, Slughorn quickly offered, " I know, you've been practicing it for weeks without success, but we both know you can do it."

"Alright, I'll try.' Albus said reluctantly pulling out his wand.

At this Slughorn sighed, "If you proceed believing you will fail, your faith will be rewarded."

Albus nodded. He raised his wand with determination, "Wingardium Leviosa," but the feather did not move.

Albus' could not hide his disappointment, but Slughorn smiled warmly, "Well what are you waiting for? Try again."

Albus nodded, "Wingardium Leviosa."

Nothing. Slughorn shook his head, "Again."

They continued this for almost an hour, taking breaks for minutes only at a time, and occasionally switching between hover charms and transfiguration. As the lesson wore on it became clear to Albus that no progress was going to be made, and that Slughorn, like the other's was not going to be able help him. For whatever reason, he was doomed to failure as a wizard, a fact he was no longer willing to remain silent about.

"This is never going to work!" Albus cried after trying unsuccessfully to lift the feather for what must of been in the several hundredths of times.

"Try again," Slughorn said too patiently.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Albus avoided eye contact, "But it's not working. I can't...I just can't do it."

"Nonsense, my boy." Slughorn dismissed, was again too easily. "Just try it, till you get it right. It's all about attitude."

Albus couldn't listen to this anymore, he finally broke down, "I'm tired, Professor. I'm useless at magic, and I know it. I've tried everything, I really have, but I can't get it right."

"Attitude, Mr. Potter." Slughorn said, patience holding perfectly.

"I can't change that, sir." Albus said quietly, but with a finality that seemed to get to Slughorn, "I'm not special, I'm not him."

"Well no one asked you to be, duplications are worth very little. The world already has a Harry Potter, it doesn't need another one." Slughorn looked at the boy sympathetically.

"Stop saying the world." Albus whispered.

Slughorn looked at him sternly, " What was that?"

Albus looked him in the eye, "Stop saying the world, you don't mean that. Your not doing this for the world, your doing it for yourself. I'm sorry I'm not very useful to your set broken, but I am."

To Albus' surprise, Slughorn smiled. He sat on a stool beside Albus, "I'm doing this for you," he said this sincerely, looking Albus in the eyes with warmth and confidence, " I understand if you don't believe that. The truth is it does help me to make you as strong a wizard as I can, but I could manage without, but you would have to live your whole life thinking you are less than you are, and the world will be more than willing to let you. You think you are special, because you are the son of someone famous, and you are, but not for that reason. You are special because you are kind, and honest, bravely so I might add. But to the world you are just a curiosity. The powerless son of a powerful legend. The world doesn't care about you kindness or bravery, and curiosities are only interesting as long as they remain curious. So the question is: How long do you think it will take them to puzzle you out?"

Albus sat speechless, Slughorn patted him on the shoulder and began clearing the materials away. Finally Albus spoke, "Is that the end?"

Slughorn nodded his head, "I've kept you long enough. You've learned your lesson I think about not hitting your fellow students. Yes?"

"Yes, but-" Albus began, stopping himself as he realized he was about to complain about not getting enough detention.

Slughorn eyed the boy carefully, obviously getting the reaction he'd hoped for,"If you wish, Mr. Potter, we can continue these tutoring session. I am still confident that working together-"

"Yes," Albus interrupted.

Slughorn smiled broadly, "Very well. Same time next week then?" Albus nodded and started to walk away. "One more thing," Slughorn called to him. Albus stopped and turned. " An idea occurred to me," he opened his palm, the feather lay their on his palm, "Close your eyes, focus on the feather, and try again."

Albus closed his eyes, he pictured the feather in his mind and raised his wand. Slughorn spoke calmly, "Take a breath."

Albus obeyed, he breathed deeply, "Wingardium Leviosa," he cried. He kept his eyes shut afraid to open them.

"Open your eyes, Albus."

He obeyed. It took him a few seconds to convince himself he wasn't dreaming. The feather was floating inches above Slughorn's hand. Albus stared at the feather in awe, as Slughorn dropped his arm allowing the feather to float freely above the ground. "Thank you, sir." Albus said finally.

Slughorn grabbed the feather and packed it with the rest of the supplies. "Same time next week, Albus Potter."

Albus nodded. He smiled and left the room with a new energy. He hurried to the Hufflepuff common room, excited to tell the others what had occurred. He practically shouted the password at the portrait which opened for him, though giving him an agitated look as it did. The common room was empty, but he did not let it kill his joy, instead he hurried down the tunnel into his room, jumping onto Gray's bed. "What the-" Gray shouted, pulling the covers off his face to confront his attacker, "Albus what are you doing?"

"I did it!" Albus exclaimed.

"Did what?" Gray said grumpily.

"Magic."

"I know I was there," Gray laid back down

"No," Albus shook him again, "On purpose. I did magic on purpose."

Gray stared at him with a mixture of frustration and amusement, "Congratulations, now go to bed. Please."

Albus laughed, " I can't sleep."

Gray rolled his eyes and shoved him off the bed, "Then let me."

"Fine," Albus feigned anger, "Don't be a good friend."

After a few moments, Gray sat up, "Alright, tell me about."

Albus smiled, and sat on the floor and began to tell him the story.

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Thanks for the reviews/support!


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